


a little bit of coffee makes me your man

by constantly_disoriented



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Banter, Coffee spill, F/M, Human Krolia, James is a Dork, Keith's Dad is a truck driver, Not Canon Compliant, Snark, even tho he's a firefighter in canon, idk what else I should tag, krolia could kick his ass, meet ugly, mine too tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 14:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15865560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constantly_disoriented/pseuds/constantly_disoriented
Summary: "Oh shit," James hisses as hot coffee spills over his jacket — hisfavorite jacket, dammit— down his chest, down his jeans. "Ow — Jesus, Mary and Joseph —”"Fuck!" The other person says, all surprise and impatience. He bumped into someone, great, that's fine. It's fine, it's not like this is the last pair of clean clothes he'sgot, or anything—Or, the cliche meet ugly cafe au nobody asked for but everyone secretly loves.





	a little bit of coffee makes me your man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Abyssiniana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abyssiniana/gifts).



> hi i havent actually seen the past 3 seasons of voltron so! if theyre out of character feel free to tell me  
> krolia can actually step on me thanks  
> (this is a gift for a friend and theyve already read it but _whoops if youre reading this hello i love you_ )

The shitty little coffee shop on the corner of Arsenal and Fifth really ain’t worth the gas money, but James really can’t complain. Not when he’s been on the road for ten hours, still has ten more to go, and three more hours till the next proper rest stop comes up where he can take a rest for the night.

So he pays for the shitty coffee, takes it black even though he knows he’s gonna hate himself for it. Hopefully the bitter suffering will keep him from getting too tired. He pays the waitress all one dollar twenty-two cents the coffee’s worth (not even worth that much, ain’t worth more than a _nickel_ , it’s a fuckin’ _scam_ , but he _needs it_ , so —) and turns to head back to his smelly, messy truck —

Smacks straight into someone.

"Oh shit," James hisses as hot coffee spills over his jacket — his _favorite jacket, dammit_ — down his chest, down his jeans. "Ow — Jesus, Mary and Joseph —”

"Fuck!" The other person says, all surprise and impatience. He bumped into someone, great, that's fine. It's fine, it's not like this is the last pair of clean clothes he's _got, or anything_ —

"Sorry," he says, gruff and sharp, steps back and away, reaches down instinctually to pull the hot cloth away from his skin. At least his coffee didn’t spill too much, just splashed up in the lid a little. He sighs sharp, looks up to see whose coffee he’s gotta pay for, and —

Oh, okay.

The lady before him is pretty, all long legs and fiery eyes, short black hair and pretty tanned skin smattered with coffee-dark freckles. She's frowning at him, all frustrated and just a touch concerned, but she'd be so much better off smiling with a mouth like hers, wouldn't she? Seems a crime to have her pouting like that.

"That's why we watch where we're going, isn't it?" She asks flatly, looking up at him with pretty brown eyes and her eyebrows all furrowed up. "Now, that’s my coffee you’re wearing."

Feisty, too, huh? His skin burns a little from the spill, yeah, but he still laughs at the way she still manages to look worried even as she scolds him. "Sorry, ma'am. Didn't see ya there, that’s my bad. Mind grabbin' a couple'a napkins for me?"

She makes a disdained noise, but she still reaches over to the counter and plucks a large handful of napkins from the dispenser. She presses them into his waiting hand, and he starts the messy task of trying to clean himself up with cheap diner paper towels. Thinner than paper and twice as flimsy — barely even mop up a droplet of water, ain't worth shit, but it’s all he’s got.

"You know, I was going to drink that," she tells him, and James smiles wide, smirks sharp.

"You still can, if ya want," he says before he really has time to think it through, and maybe he shouldn't have said that; she looks like she could kick his ass, and he’d _absolutely let her_ —

But she snorts, smiles suddenly, briefly, all coffee-stained teeth and bright wattage. God, he loves being right. With a smile like that, she’s gotta have every man crawlin’ at her feet, don’t she?

"No," she says flatly, but there's still a little turn in her lip when she says it. "I'm fairly sure coffee doesn't go well with mansweat and leather polish."

"Right, well — worth a shot, anyway." He says, all flippant and shrugging shoulders. She scoffs, rolls her eyes, but plucks the dirty napkins out of his hands and deftly shoves clean ones in their place. “Thank you kindly, ma’am.”

“Krolia,” she corrects, and James has to blink.

“Pretty name for a pretty lady,” he tells her, and she grins, brief and bright.

“You flirt too much.” She tells him, fixes him with eyes that seem like she’s tryin’ to be stern, but can’t quite make it. He smirks wider, shrugs a little.

“Just speakin’ the truth, Miss Krolia.” He says, tips his head even though he doesn’t have a hat to match it. “I’m James, but you can call me later.”

She blinks at him, eyes wide with surprise and eyebrows lifted up all cute like she didn’t expect it, and James’s chest gets real tight with it.

Then she’s relaxing, just a little, biting at her lip to stop herself from smiling too wide, but he can see the twitch in her cheeks from it. “Why not now? You do owe me another cup of coffee, don’t you? Seeing as you spilled the first one, and all.”

Oh.

 _Okay_.

“Well, Miss Krolia, in that case,” he tells her, trying his best to look all confident and nonchalant even though he was really — not expecting her to turn the tables, get his gut all warm and fluttery, give him fuckin’ _butterflies_. “Mind sittin’ down with me and lettin’ me buy you a coffee?”

“Not at all,” she smiles, all sly and satisfied, and James done did himself in with this one, hasn’t he?

She’s gonna eat him _alive_.

(He’s lookin’ forward to it.)

**Author's Note:**

> trig is killing me im surviving on coffee and anxiety and kyle hill's hair from because science whatup feel free to scream at me to distract me from my existential crisis  
> i hope you enjoyed!!! thanks for coming in and surviving till the end to read this! tell me if you liked it (or if you didnt like it feel free to roast me) have a nice day!


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